


one step at a time

by trixstar



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Dancing Lessons, F/M, Female My Unit | Byleth, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Blue Lions Route, Gen, Humor, Mostly Gen, Pre-Timeskip | Academy Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Romance, Teenagers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-30
Updated: 2020-01-30
Packaged: 2021-02-27 16:08:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,868
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22466185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trixstar/pseuds/trixstar
Summary: As the ball approaches, Byleth decides to give her students a special lesson.
Relationships: Annette Fantine Dominic/Felix Hugo Fraldarius, Blue Lions Students & My Unit | Byleth, Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/My Unit | Byleth
Comments: 18
Kudos: 198





	one step at a time

**Author's Note:**

> i turned my headcanon on @/wrongbluelions into this fic yes. you cannot convince me that a special dancing session did not take place in preparation for the ball. anyways, the only outright ships are dimileth (aged up dima for this one to be appropriate) and felannie, the rest can be read as light slash or gen. enjoy!

“There’s only two weeks left until the ball, everyone,” Byleth announces, voice authoritative.

The Blue Lions are all gathered before her, buzzing with a sort of nervous, yet anticipated energy. They’re in their classroom as usual, but all the chairs and desks have been moved to the side. Her students in the middle of all the vacant space. She’s looking forward to this session.

“Though I’m unfamiliar with the traditions here, Lady Rhea and Seteth have made it very clear that this event is of the utmost importance,” she says sternly. “Which is why we’re having a special class today.”

Byleth knows she’s not one to show any emotion (a fact even Jeralt constantly points out) which is why she expects a reaction when she allows herself a mischievous grin. It plays out the way she expected it to. Her students are now looking at her with piqued interest and surprise. “Since Seteth in particular has made it a point to emphasize that all of us be well-behaved and well-prepared for everything, I’ve taken it upon myself to make sure that that is exactly the case,” she continues “which is why instead of regular classes, we’re going to have dance classes instead.”

She expects their reactions.

Felix scoffs when she ends the sentence, glare in place. Beside him, she sees Sylvain light up in amusement. Dimitri, Dedue, and Ingrid’s eyes widen in understanding while Ashe and Annette look like they’re teetering on the edge of either being excited for the lesson or terrified.

Mercedes simply smiles. “That sounds wonderful,” she says, eyes filled with mirth.

Byleth allows herself a small smile at the comment.

Felix rolls his eyes. “Dancing? We could be training right now. This is a waste of time. I’m heading to the training grounds,” he finishes. He’s about to stalk out of the room (she can already see Ingrid and Dimitri prepared to go after him) when Sylvain takes hold of his arm.

“C’mon Felix, don’t be a killjoy! This’ll be fun!” The ginger-haired man winks.

“Fun? I already know how to dance. I don’t see the point in wasting time learning what I already know.”

Ingrid lets out a laugh. “Yet you spend everyday training with your sword. Is that supposed to be taken as a sign that after all these years, you’ve still yet to master it?”

Byleth shakes her head in amusement. (“Oh, that was brutal,” Sothis says from inside her head. Byleth agrees with the sentiment.) Felix directs a glare at Ingrid. She gives him a half-hearted shrug and lets out a small giggle into her hand.

“Moving on, I actually need you to be here, Felix.” Byleth then addresses everyone. “I’m aware that some of you aren’t exactly well-versed in dancing, so I thought it would be efficient for those who did receive an education about it to do the teaching,” she declares. I’m delegating Dimitri, Sylvain, Felix, and Annette to take charge here.” At the statement, Annette lets out a small squeak before silencing herself. Dimitri and Ingrid nod while Sylvain’s eyes twinkle in excitement and mischief (which is never really a good thing when it comes to him.) She can see Felix’s face contort in irritation.

“This is-“ Sylvain clamps a hand over Felix’s mouth.

“We’re happy to accept, professor.” The older man says with a wink. Felix tries to pry his hand off, but Sylvain’s palm stays firmly in place.

Byleth nods. “As I had hoped.”

Dimitri grimaces a bit. “Though I personally think this ball is rather a hindrance, I understand its vitality and I’ll strive to do my best, professor.” Ingrid nods in agreement.

Byleth turns to Annette. “This is okay with you too, Annette?”

The girl reddens a little before nodding in determination. “I honestly don’t think I’m that good a dancer, professor, but, like his Highness says, I’ll do my best!”

Felix scoffs at that and Byleth can already see Annette preparing to retort, so she steps in. “That’s good to hear.” She clasps her hands together.

“Now, shall we begin?”

* * *

“You’re horrible at this.”

“S-Shut up! I’m doing my best!”

Byleth, against Sothis’ better judgement, had paired Annette and Felix together. The girl was rusty and was apparently in no state to properly instruct anyone, so Byleth thought this arrangement would do. It’s only been fifteen minutes since the session has started, but Byleth thinks she’s heard enough arguments from them that would last five years. She cringes as she watches Annette accidentally step on the man’s foot for what seems like the umpteenth time, visibly crushing the hand she’s taken a hold of and rumpling his vest.

She almost expects Felix to walk out. (He’s lasted ten minutes longer than Byleth thought he would which is already a feat.) Instead of doing just that though, the woman is surprised to see Felix simply sigh.

“You’re thinking too much about this, your posture is too stiff. Loosen up.” She sees him adjust his grip on the girl’s waist and is quick to notice the blush that rises on her other student’s face with the action. Felix notices as well and rolls his eyes. “What? We’re dance partners, I’m supposed to touch you like this.” Annette’s blush deepens.

“Don’t say it like that!” She says embarrassedly.

“How else am I supposed to say it?”

“I don’t know!” She looks away from him. “Something less suggestive.” Her voice gets quiet at the end.

The swordsman smirks. “Wrong thing to focus on, Annette.”

Byleth would almost believe his whole bravado if she hadn’t spotted the beginnings of a blush on Felix’s cheeks.

Annette sighs heavily. “It’s kind of hard to keep up when your partner’s already leagues away from you,” the magic specialist pouts, still looking away from him.

Felix scoffs. “Flattery will get you nowhere. And I’d like to think House Dominic made sure their heiress was educated enough to dance. Now, focus.” Byleth watches him lock eyes with her.

To any other person it would probably look funny, seeing the future leaders of House Fraldarius and House Dominic stare each other down with all the determination and intensity of a predator surveying its prey. What she sees though is two of her students attempting to perform as excellently as they can (as always.)

Eventually, she sees Felix start to move, taking Annette with him. “Focus only on me,” he says, voice surprisingly gentle, yet stern. His partner looks hesitant, but nods determinedly at him nonetheless.

Felix starts off slow and Annette is quick to follow. He suddenly quickens his pace. Byleth sees Annette’s eyes widen in alarm before following as best as she can.

Amazingly, Byleth sees them start to move in sync. No more foot stomping or apologies, just technique and precision.

She feels proud. Annette’s clumsy steps soon evolve into sharper, dignified moves, and, just when Byleth can see her get confident, Felix changes his pace once more. The girl is undeterred now and she follows.

Byleth can see what the swordsman is doing. Changing the speed, so his partner could learn to adjust to all of them. An unorthodox method, she thinks, but it seems to be doing the trick. (No matter how sort of hilarious it looks.) She sees Annette’s worried face gradually meld into one of accomplishment and happiness. “Felix, I’m doing it!” she hears the girl tell him excitedly.

He merely gives her an exasperated look, effect ruined by the small, fond smile that accompanies it. “I told you you’d get it eventually. Now, just keep it up.”

Annette nods and, soon enough, Byleth hears her start singing quietly as she and Felix slow down, matching each other’s pace as they glide along their small corner of the room. She sees Felix let himself relax as he guides his classmate, gaze transfixed solely on her.

Byleth can tell he’s utterly captivated.

She turns away from them then, staring any longer makes her feel as though she’s intruding on something private.

(She’ll get all the details later.)

“You’re already pretty good at this, Mercedes!” a voice says.

Byleth lets her gaze wander to Sylvain and Mercedes. They're dancing significantly better than the previous pair. She walks over to hear better.

“I told you, I’ve already had some experience with it,” Mercedes says “It’s just been a while.”

“Doesn’t sound like it’s true. You’re practically a pro.”

“Come now, you don’t have to keep showering me with compliments, Sylvain.”

Sylvain winks. “I hardly think a pretty girl should be deprived of all the praise she deserves.”

Byleth rolls her eyes fondly and steps in. “Less talk, more dancing, Sylvain.”

“Professor, there’s really nothing I can teach her anymore, like I said, she’s a pro!” The man gestures at his partner. “Just a few minutes and she’s already dancing better than Felix! He dances like there’s a stick up his-“

“Finish that sentence and I’m telling Ingrid what you did last week!” Felix yells as he glowers from across the room. He’d look threatening if he wasn’t still holding Annette close to him.

Sylvain pales. “H-Hey now, no need to go there, Felix. I was just kidding!” He yells back at the other man, but he’s already turned away, making it a point not to look at the ginger-haired man. Sylvain chances a wary glance at Ingrid to see if she had heard, but the girl looks busy trying to ensure Ashe that he was indeed holding her properly.

Mercedes giggles again.

“What you did last week must have been pretty bad to have warranted a reaction like that from you, Sylvain.”

“I’m not proud of it,” he shakes his head, slumping a little, “but it really isn’t that bad! I swear! It would just be better if Ingrid didn’t know about it.”

“And me?” Byleth interjects “If this is what I think it is, I should know as your teacher, Sylvain.” Watching Sylvain sweat is amusing, she finds. (From inside her head, she hears Sothis egging her on.)

“Wait, how-“

“The professor is right, Sylvain. She probably needs to know.” Mercedes nods gravely, solemn expression on her face. Byleth can tell she’s having fun with this too.

“I-“

“Sylvain, if you don’t feel comfortable telling me, you could always approach Seteth. Better yet, Lady Rhea if the incident is as dire as I think it is.”

“Come on-“

“I think the professor is right, Sylvain.”

“H-Hold it!" Sylvain finally sputters out, hands raised in defense. Byleth takes pleasure in the fact that he had actually paled. He gives the girls a sheepish look. “You guys have way too much fun messing with me.”

Byleth lets out a small chuckle as she shares a look with a smiling Mercedes. “You make it too easy, Sylvain.” Mercedes says.

“You wound me, Mercedes.” He holds a palm to his chest in mock hurt. “To think my dance partner could betray me so easily.” Then he turns to Byleth. “Perhaps a change in partner is needed, wouldn’t you say, professor?” Sylvain winks as he extends his hand towards her, bowing.

She’s impressed at how fast he can recover.

Not _that_ impressed though.

“I’ll have to pass,” she says easily. “Now, since you were so eager to shower Mercedes with praise earlier, can you show me what both of you can actually do?” There’s a challenging edge to her tone and she knows it.

Sylvain and Mercedes look at each other and nod, determined. “With pleasure,” Sylvain smiles.

He and Mercedes take their positions and take hold of each other before proceeding with the routine. They are elegant and well-practiced. Byleth admires how graceful they make their movements look, especially Mercedes. Sylvain was right, she could easily be mistaken for an expert. They are focused on each other and Byleth can sense a certain chemistry with them and is pleased. Having a bond with your dance partner helps, she thinks. She nods approvingly at them when they finish and once again rejects another dance proposal Sylvain offers her. As she walks towards the next pair, she can already hear the man start to flirt with his partner again. She decides to let it slide.

When she reaches Ashe and Ingrid, she can already tell that there’s some struggle.

“I’m afraid I really have no talent for this,” Ashe says sadly as he nearly stumbles on his feet. Byleth notices how he’s careful not to sway Ingrid though and she admires that.

Ingrid shakes her head in disagreement. “Nonsense, you just need practice. It’s only been a few minutes, Ashe. I’m certain you’ll get the hang of it by the end of this session.”

“That seems like wishful thinking.”

Byleth finds herself stepping in again. “I’m sure you’ll get be able to understand it soon enough, Ashe,” she says reassuringly. She isn’t saying it just to comfort the boy, no, she’s saying it because she genuinely believes it. The gray-haired boy had always been a quick study and always seemed to excel at anything he set his mind to.

Ashe looks at her appreciatively. “I hope so.” He turns to Ingrid, apologetic look on his face. “In the meantime, you’ll have to bear with me, Ingrid.”

She smiles. “I don’t have a problem with that at all.”

Byleth nods at them and steps away to give them space. She observes them as they continue to practice.

It’s obvious to anyone who can dance that Ashe barely knows what he’s doing, but Byleth can see him trying his hardest. His brows are furrowed deep in concentration and he looked as if he were glaring at his feet to get it together. Yet, though his face is intense and his stance is rigid, once again, she can see how careful he is to hold Ingrid delicately. Unlike Annette, who Byleth has seen stomp on Felix’s feet practically a million times, Ashe makes it a point never to do that. He’s quick on his feet, careful not to even graze Ingrid’s shoes.

Byleth frowns.

That’s probably why he’s struggling so much. He’s paying so much attention to his feet and moving them quickly that he trips over them. (She hears Sothis snort obnoxiously in her head and she levels the girl with a mind-glare. He’s trying his best.)

Byleth sees Ashe trip again and is about to point out her earlier discovery to him before Ingrid speaks up. “Ashe,” she begins slowly “part of learning a new skill is making mistakes, wouldn’t you agree?”

The boy nods, unsure where the conversation is going. “Of course.”

The blonde nods. “Then you should know that making the mistake of stepping on my feet every once in a while is perfectly acceptable.”

Ashe reddens. He gives her a sheepish look. “Saw right through me, didn’t you?”

“With the way you were staring holes into your feet, it wasn’t that difficult.” She chuckles.

The boy lets out a defeated sigh. “Well, at least we’ve pinpointed the problem. What do you suggest we do?”

“Follow my lead except, this time, eyes on me.” Ashe is about to protest, but the girl holds up a finger and Byleth sees the argument die is his throat.

“Ok, let’s try that.”

Byleth watches as Ingrid sets up a slow pace for her partner to adjust to first. Ashe is still tripping on his feet, but less so now that he isn’t so focused on them. Gradually, she sees Ingrid move faster, taking quicker steps. Ashe follows as best as he can and Byleth is pleasantly surprised to see that he’s stumbling less and less.

Soon enough, they reach the average tempo most music followed and Ashe isn’t making any more mistakes. At the realization, his expression turns gleeful and he levels Ingrid a thankful look. She smiles and nods proudly at him. And they keep dancing.

Byleth knew he’d get the hang of it.

“Ah, the eye contact always does help in dancing, professor, I’d even say it’s one of the most important factors.”

Byleth doesn’t startle at Dimitri’s sudden presence. She’d heard him coming miles away, what with those metal boots of his. (“Wholly unnecessary, if you ask me.” Sothis says from inside her head. Byleth tells her that no one asked.) She turns to Dimitri and Dedue, who had come up behind her. “I agree.”

Dimitri grins. “Felix, Sylvain, Ingrid, and I had the same dance tutor. He taught us the importance of maintaining eye contact with your dance partner and, more importantly, having a bond with them.” He turns his gaze at his classmates, his friends. “I like to think that’s why all of us aren’t having such a hard time learning and teaching, professor. It’s because we’ve all established bonds and a level of trust with another. And I’m more than grateful that I get to be able to say that about our house.”

Byleth ponders upon his words and follows Dimitri’s gaze across the room. She sees Ingrid pull along an obedient Ashe towards Sylvain and Mercedes inquiring about what exactly Sylvain did last week. She sees Sylvain start to sweat buckets and Mercedes trading giggles with Annette about it, Felix on the sidelines rolling his eyes at the absurdness of it all.

It’s all so wholesome and warm.

Byleth smiles. “Me too.”

She shares a look with Dimitri before ultimately deciding to get back to business. The session is far from over. “I suppose you’re already prepared for the ball, Dimitri?” she asks.

The boy nods. “Yes, professor. I would say my dance skills are acceptable enough.” He gives her a sheepish look. “At least hopefully by your standards. But we’ll see at the ball.”

She nods before turning to Dedue. “And you, Dedue? Are you prepared for the ball?”

The Duscur man nods. “Having observed his highness and his companions for so long during numerous formal events in the past has prepared me well enough.”

Dimitri chuckles. “He conveniently leaves out the part where he danced at said formal events in the past, professor. Dedue is quite a skilled dancer.”

Dedue shakes his head. “Such praise is unnecessary.”

“Nonsense, dancing is a talent that should be recognized, don’t you think so, professor?” Dimitri asks as he turns to her.

Byleth nods. “I think all talent should be recognized.”

Dimitri nods in agreement. “Truly. I’m sure you’re a talented dancer as well, professor.”

Byleth blinks.

“I don’t know how to dance,” she says stoically.

She’d never needed to. She was a mercenary. She wasn’t really privy to grand balls or festivals. She fought for a living, killed to survive. Merriment like that wasn’t rewarded to people like her. Sure, Jeralt and the rest of their band of mercenaries partied once in a while, but when it came to dancing at those, all Byleth really saw was a bunch of people getting drunk and falling all over each other in a flurry of clumsy, uncoordinated movements. Jeralt also never took it upon himself to teach her anything but how to fight. Dimitri’s eyes widen at the revelation. Dedue nods understandingly. “I imagine you weren’t subjected to those types of hobbies during your life as a mercenary, professor,” the taller man says.

Byleth nods. “It isn’t really in our nature.”

“I see.”

“Well, that won’t do, will it, professor?” Dimitri asks concernedly, cutting into the conversation.

“How so?”

“You made it very clear that Seteth wanted us to be able behave properly.” His eyebrows are drawn together. “I assume that he meant to imply everyone, including yourself.”

Byleth blinks again.

He… made an extremely valid point.

She feels a headache coming along. “I suppose,” she begrudgingly admits, “I was meant to receive that message too.” Sothis is laughing at her. Sothis should shut up.

She was going to be the laughingstock of the ball at this rate. She was an excellent fighter, that she was sure of, but a battlefield is completely different from a dance floor and Byleth can't help but already expect herself to fail. Did Jerald know how to dance? He was a knight before, shouldn't they know how to? This was unfair, why didn't he think to teach his daughter at least the basics? She was going to have words with him later. Or stare at him really hard. Whichever got him to-

"Perhaps his highness could teach you, professor."

Dedue's voice cuts through her inner turmoil and she turns to the taller man inquisitively, oblivious to the fact that Dimitri had suddenly gone rigid beside her. She stares at Dedue questioningly. The man clears his throat. "You do not know how to dance. His highness is probably the most suited to teach you here, seeing as the others are preoccupied and he is a much better dancer than me. It seemed obvious."

Unbeknownst to her, the room had suddenly gone silent as she contemplated the decision. Dimitri still looks like he's frozen solid, but she can't see him right now, so it doesn't matter.

"He makes a good point," Sothis says. Probably the only helpful insight she's bothered offering Byleth today.

"I know." Byleth wishes these mind conversations would happen less often.

"You know you're not getting out of this right?" Sothis looks mischievous and smug.

Byleth sighs. "I know."

She snaps out of her stupor and turns to Dimitri. Byleth can tell he's doing his best not to look at her directly and can't help but wonder why. "If it is alright with you, Dimitri, I'd like for you to teach me how to dance. At least the basics." She's not going to pressure him to turn her into a pro in just one session much less just for one night, it seemed futile.

Dimitri stares at her blankly for a few seconds. Byleth is confused. He’s usually so calm and collected. Never at a loss for words or looking like a deer in the lamplights. She’s never seen him like this.

She can hear Sylvain snickering in the background, but deigns to ignore it. She has more pressing matters to deal with. “Dimitri?”

It snaps him out of whatever state he was in and his eyes focus on her. He clears his throat. “It would be my pleasure, professor.” Charming as always, as if he hadn’t just acted oddly a few moments ago. There’s a light blush on his cheeks, but she chooses to see it as a trick of the light. He bows to her before offering her his hand.

Byleth meets his eyes and take it.

* * *

“You stopped singing.”

“Felix, this is much more important!”

“How is spying on the boar and the professor more important than the lesson.”

“It’s ‘his highness’ and really? You have no clue?”

“About?”

“You’re supposed to be one of his closest friends!”

“I don’t see how that’s related.”

“Of course, you wouldn’t. Now just move us a little to the right, so I can get a better view.”

* * *

“How are they doing?”

“His royal highness looks like he’s about to explode, so I’d say they’re fine. Annette’s doing a really bad job of trying to spy on them though. She’s practically hauling Felix across the floor.”

“Typical Annie... though I can’t say I blame her.”

“Tell me about it. His highness is probably the best dancer I know, but he looks like he’s going to trip over himself at any given moment.”

“That’s cute. He’s so flustered. And the professor?”

“Blank slate as usual, but she’s trying really hard. I can tell.”

“Oh, spin me please. I want to see this.”

“With pleasure.”

* * *

“They do make a rather cute pair, don’t you think?”

“I didn’t think you were one to entertain those kinds of thoughts, Ingrid.”

“Well, it’s nice to think about romance every once in a while. Particularly in his highness’ life.”

“Is that a way of saying you’re glad it isn’t Sylvain?”

“’Glad’ is an understatement. I’d beat Sylvain if he ever thought about going after the professor, especially since he knows how his highness feels about her.”

“So there _is_ something there.... Well, I don’t doubt your strength.”

“You shouldn’t.”

* * *

Dedue watches from the sidelines as Dimitri and Byleth dance across the room as best as they can. His highness is flustered, that much is obvious. But he’s still putting up his usual air of elegance and composure. He isn’t at his best right now, but he’s still an exceptional dancer in this state. His steps are accurate. Posture, immaculate. And movements, graceful. Impressive as always, Dedue thinks proudly.

Their professor seems to be faring nicely as well. She’s oblivious to his highness’ turmoil and looks very determined to get the steps down. She’s a fast learner, Dedue will give her that. It’s only been a few minutes and he’s only seen Dimitri open his mouth a few times to instruct her, yet she’s already dancing on a near intermediate level.

Another thing that impresses Dedue is how confident his classmates think they are on their spying skills.

He glances at the other pairs dancing in the room, sees Annette practically thrash an irritated Felix to get a better look at their teacher, Mercedes try to peek over Sylvain’s shoulder, and Ashe giving the pair wide-eyed glances every once in a while. It’s not surprising. They all know that there’s something there.

And Dedue likes to think he probably knows about it the best.

He’s the only one who is subject to Dimitri’s spontaneous rants about how much he admires their professor, the only one who sees the extent of how he gazes at her when she isn’t looking, the only one who sees his eyes linger on his hands whenever he and Byleth touch by accident. It’s endearing, Dedue has to admit, seeing his highness so fond of someone in this manner. And everyone seems to think the same if their attempts at spying mean anything.

He is about to close in on them when he sees Byleth trip over herself for the first time, but Dimitri is quick to catch her, making sure he does it as delicately as possible. Dedue relaxes his stance and watches how closely his highness stares at their professor, asking if she is alright, if she wants to continue, if there’s anything he can do to help, and smiles to himself.

You’d have to be a fool to think there wasn’t anything there. (At least on his highness’ part.)

Dedue still has yet to crack their professor’s enigma of a personality, so he cannot say for certain yet whether his liege’s feelings are reciprocated or not. But he’s come to understand that the Ashen Demon is not someone who can be read easily. And he could live with that. He’d just have to spend more time getting know her and he has no problems with that at all.

He watches Dimitri speak softly to the professor and he sees her nod at whatever the words are. They start over, in the beginning position. Dimitri, like Ashe, makes it a point to hold his partner carefully, as if they were like a porcelain doll. They begin to move slowly. Dedue can tell everyone else is watching along with him. Byleth nods at her student and he picks up the pace. Byleth does not stumble this time, she follows through gracefully and fluidly.

Impressive. You wouldn’t be able to tell she had never danced prior to this class.

They’re moving fast now, if they’re able to get through this it will mean she is ready. He, as well as the rest of the Blue Lions wait with bated breath.

Dimitri is professional, his moves have stayed constant since the beginning speed. It didn’t look like he had been dancing since earlier at all. He doesn’t look flustered anymore, Dedue notes. Now, he exhibits an expression of focus and determination. The air of professionalism is strong. Byleth shows off a similar façade in addition to her usual stern blankness. She keeps up with the prince, matching his pace step after step. They’re nearly done.

And then, suddenly, they are.

They’re in the middle of the room glistening in sweat and breathing heavily. Dedue knows his highness may have taken it too far in that last round, but it seems to have been for the better. He watches the pair gaze at each other, he doesn’t think they know they’ve stopped yet. Or that they have an audience.

Until the applause.

Dimitri and Byleth pull apart from each other as the rest of the Blue Lions crowd them. Only he and Felix remain in the back, choosing to watch the exchange from a distance instead. Dedue watches the interaction and is filled with warmth.

Annette and Mercedes pull the professor away to discuss clothing and make-up for the ball after they shower her with praise. Ashe follows, asking the professor questions about dancing as they go. Sylvain corners Dimitri and is grilling him endlessly if the blush on his highness’ face is anything to go by. Ingrid is quick to follow and quick to reprimand the ginger-haired man for his actions. Felix watches everything with a look that isn’t irritation for once.

Yes, Dedue thinks.

They’re definitely ready for the ball.

**Author's Note:**

> criticism is welcome, but be polite!


End file.
